She glanced up to find him staring at her intently.
“Must have been hard, being moved from place to place, having to learn new rules, having to go to a new school, to make friends.”
“I gave up. What was the point in making friends when I’d just have to leave them?”
Hunter’s heart ached for the child and it hurt for the woman sitting in front of him. No wonder she found it so hard to open up to anyone, to trust. He could imagine her as a little girl, with her big brown eyes and her hair in pigtails. She must have felt so unwanted, particularly after her great-aunt abandoned her. The bitch.
Hunter’s childhood hadn’t been wonderful, but he’d had his sister and he’d had his friends. Still, he could relate to feeling unwanted.
“When I was fifteen I went to live with Moira.” A smile crossed her face, love entering her gaze. He caught his breath, wondering what he’d do if she ever looked at him that way. Probably get down on his knees and promise to give her the world.
“Who was Moira?”
“She was one of the good ones. I was living on the streets. I’d had trouble with my last foster home. I didn’t go looking for it, but trouble always seemed to find me. I was picked up by a couple of cops. I figured they’d take me back to the foster home, but they bought me a hot chocolate, they talked to me.”
The amazement and gratitude in her voice for that kindness shook him. No one should be so shocked by another human being showing them such simple kindness.
“They took me to Moira’s. She had three other foster kids but she didn’t hesitate, she just took me in. I lived with her for the next three years. I got through high school, even got a scholarship to college. Without her, I think I would have ended up back on the streets, doing God knows what. She died three years ago. I miss her.”
“So how did you end up back on the streets?” he asked.
“I decided that I wanted to help people like those cops had helped me. So after college I entered the police academy. I spent four years on the force.”
He stared at her in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
She sighed. “Because I didn’t want anyone to know. Because I wanted to forget. Because I didn’t want to have to tell you how I fucked up and got my partner killed.”
“What?”
Cady ran her hand over her face, looking exhausted. He felt guilty for pushing her, but he wasn’t about to let her stop now.
“I’d been partnered with Rusty for more than two years. He used to joke that he was the only one who could handle me.” She snorted. “More like the other way around. That man could not pick up after himself, his singing sounded like a cat with laryngitis and his jokes were terrible. But he was my partner and my best friend. I loved him.”
Hunter worked hard to keep the jealousy he felt from showing on his face. He was being an idiot. They both had pasts.
“You were sleeping with him.”
“What?” She looked up at him in surprise. “No, Rusty wasn’t into women. He was gay. He was my family. He was there for me when Moira died, he always had my back. He knew I didn’t have any family, so he’d take me home to his during the holidays.” She smiled sadly. “At first I was overwhelmed by all the noise, there just seemed to be people everywhere, you know? But they all welcomed me in, like I was part of the family.”
She ran her hands over her thighs. “It was Rusty who took me to my first BDSM club. I was so surprised, I think I spent the whole night with my mouth open and my eyes wide. But what I saw there, it spoke to me. I wanted to experience it. Which shocked me, because I’ve never been able to trust easily. But I knew Rusty was there, plus I had my safe word.”
“And I bet you negotiated everything down to the last second.”
She frowned. “Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
He smiled gently. “No, not if that gets you what you need.
Tell me what happened with Rusty.”
Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away. He fought the urge to lift her onto his lap and cuddle her close. He knew if he did that then he’d start kissing her, touching her, anything to take away her pain.
But he needed to hear this and she needed to tell him.
“I got him killed. It was a domestic disturbance call. When we got there, Rusty had a bad feeling. He was always having these feelings, he had good intuition. He called for back-up. We were in a bad neighborhood, lots of crime. I usually listened to his instincts, but then I heard a woman scream. There was the sound of breaking glass. Rusty yelled at me to stay back. I should have done that. I should have listened to him, but I went blindly charging in and Rusty followed me.”
She swallowed heavily, tears thick in her voice.
“What happened?” he asked gently.